


On the Table, Under the Knife

by Taste_of_Suburbia



Category: Curse Workers Series - Holly Black, Supernatural
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Crimes & Criminals, Curses, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, Families of Choice, Family, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Human Gabriel, M/M, Romance, Supernatural Rare OTP Fic-a-Month Challenge, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2015-05-01
Packaged: 2018-03-26 14:11:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3853564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taste_of_Suburbia/pseuds/Taste_of_Suburbia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Growing up in the middle of the criminal dealings of his worker family, to Dean it’s no wonder that he’s looking for a way out. When he meets Gabriel, a quirky and plenty annoying luck worker, he soon comes to realize that good can come out of things he once believed poisoned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the Table, Under the Knife

**Author's Note:**

> Written for SPN Rare OTP Fic-a-Month Challenge for April’s prompt of ‘Inspired by/references another fictional world.’ 
> 
> _Background:_ This is a fusion with Holly Black’s book series “The Curse Workers,” in which certain people can work curses on others for mainly financial gain. Emotion workers manipulate the emotions of others and can get them to love someone obsessively, or merely trick someone out of their money; memory workers can alter or erase someone’s memories; luck workers create luck; dream workers can create dreams, whether theirs or someone else's; transformation workers can transform anything into something else, even people; and death workers can, well, kill. All it takes is a touch. In this world there are always consequences that come from working, and not just societal.

The latest round of therapy isn’t helping his horrible mood any.

The guy keeps on asking the same questions every session, with little variation. Sure, this is only the third time that Dean’s seen him, but he’s already fed up and already knows more about himself, at least speculation, than he ever wanted to.

“So, you’re convinced that you’re not a worker?”

Dean grits his teeth. “Correct.”

“Even though everyone in your family is a worker, from generations back. Your mother works memories, correct?” They had only brushed the surface of his family life before, and Dean isn’t quite sure he likes where this is heading.

“Look, doc. The only reason I agree to come here is so that my father will stay off my ass and my mother will stop mother-henning me. I really have no need to talk about my family with you. Especially my mother.” True, his mother is a memory worker, but as good as she is she’s never quite grasped onto erasing memories, just altering them and creating new ones. His father is a dream worker, which proves virtually useless in any area of the criminal underground and which is probably why he comes closer to drinking himself to death every day. His younger brother Sam’s abilities haven’t quite manifested yet, but Dean’s positive he’ll turn out to be a worker.

It’s also true that Dean’s old enough to determine what he is and isn’t, and that he should have found out if he’s a worker anywhere from two years to six months ago. But he _can_ feel it in his blood, despite that he actually has worker blood, that he isn’t a worker. He’s just an ordinary human being with no magical abilities and that’s exactly how he wants to keep it. He’s in the mess he’s in in the first place because his family are workers, always involved in some criminal scheme to get some quick cash.

His mother Mary is a decent person but his father always pushes her into using “her gifts.” Hell, they call them curses for a reason, and Dean wants no part of it. Except Dean’s dragged into nearly every case of theirs, and he never says no because he fears Sam will replace him. Sam still has some years left, he can still be the kid Dean wants him to be, free of the taint their family has already placed onto Dean.

While Dean’s head is spinning the guy asking him all these stupid questions is quiet, studying him. Dean glances up at the clock and sees that there are only fifteen minutes left in his session.

“And what if you do turn out to be a worker? What then?”

Dean kicks the table in front of him with his boot, and gulps down a mouthful of cold coffee in a vain attempt to get rid of his headache. “Then I’m royally fucked,” he answers.

* * *

 

The kid in his eleventh grade science class is knocking on his door. How does Dean know this? Because like a complete freak he pulls the curtain aside and peaks outside the window and sees him, holding a basket filled with something. Dean’s not exactly popular around school, not with worker parents even though working is still _technically_ legal. Mostly other people just walk really quickly past him or even in the other direction, and it’s fortunate that luck hasn’t touched Sam yet, who has way too many friends for Dean to keep track of.

Back to Gabriel though. The year is only a week in and Dean doesn’t know much about the guy, what with trying to avoid other people in general. He knows he sits right in front of him in most of his classes and that the guy is a total smart ass, but that he’s also really smart too but doesn’t like to show it. He’s seen Gabriel watch him discreetly when Dean’s looked over at his table during lunchtime once or twice, and Gabriel always stares him down in the hallway, as if showing he’s not afraid.

Maybe this is Dean’s chance to tell him that he should be running in the opposite direction. Just like everyone else.

“Who’s there, sweetie?”

He ignores his mother and open the door. “Hey,” Gabriel winks at him and holds out the basket, and whatever goodies are hiding under the tissue paper, Dean’s kinda afraid to ask. “I’m Gabriel. Just moved here last month. I actually live right down the block, over there, yellow house. Just in case you feel like visiting sometime. Which you’re more than welcome to.” Gabriel looks at Dean intently, hard amberish eyes seeming to peer into him, as if to tell Dean that he knows exactly what he is. Even if Dean doesn’t know it himself. “Or not.”

Dean glances behind him to confirm that his mother isn’t there and pulls the door to. “What’s in the basket?”

“Champagne for my true friends, real pain for my sham friends.”

Dean stares him down. “You trying to get me to become friends with you or something?” Sure, the guy’s new, which means he’s just left all his old friends behind and therefore now needs new ones, but Dean’s not quite sure how to tell him that this is the absolute last door he should be knocking on.

“Maybe it’d be in your best interest,” Gabriel shrugs. “Considering you don’t have any.”

Dean slams the door in his face, but not before yanking the basket out of Gabriel’s hands because if there’s champagne in there, he’s gonna need it.

* * *

 

Dean feels unsteady on his feet as John pushes him closer to the door, whispering in his ear in a way that never fails to creep him out. He feels dirty, tainted, used and abused. He doesn’t want to do this anymore, doesn’t want to be this person anymore, but he has no choice. “Now, just tell him that your mother’s interested in getting to know him better.”

Trying to pimp out his mother is _not_ something he wants to be doing right now.

“Why?” Dean can’t help but whine because he’s so good at it.

His father grips the back of his neck, hard, and Dean winces but knows better than to squirm. “Because.” Dean almost thought he was gonna stop there. “We need him to forget his password so then we can change it. You want your brother to have three meals a day, don’t you?” More like supporting his father’s drinking habit.

“Fuck my life,” Dean mumbles under his breath, but he goes into the room anyway.

The target’s sitting at his desk, eyes fixed on his computer screen. Dean knocks on the door as politely as he can. “Uh, sir? I just started yesterday but there was a phone call from a...,” he looks down at the sticky note in his hand, having done this enough times to know how to play this game. “Mrs. Williams... Donna. She says that she’d like to get to know you better. You really impressed her the first time she met you.”

There’s a pit that forms in his stomach when the target smiles, but there’s also a feeling of relief and even satisfaction because he’s played his part well. Sometimes, he wonders if he’ll turn out to be a luck worker. “Wonderful. See if tomorrow at two is alright for her.”

“Yes, sir.”

* * *

 

Gabriel’s right in front of him when Dean slams his locker shut, seemingly with guns raised. “Did you like the basket?”

Half of Dean’s mouth curls up in a smile; he hadn’t been able to resist opening the basket the night before. It was odd because Dean felt like it should have been the reverse: Dean bringing a housewarming present to Gabriel and his family, since he was new in the neighborhood and all. Gabriel did seem oddly nice, but kinda stupid too since he was obviously looking for friends in all the wrong places. Being friends with someone whose family were active workers was just plain suicide. If his Dad took one look at Gabriel and decided he didn’t like him, then he could just make him disappear, or manipulate his dreams enough to make him go insane.

“Who doesn’t like homemade cookies and store bought Hershey’s Kisses?”

“Hey,” Gabriel presses a hand to his heart, his other hand resting on the locker right beside Dean’s, as if trying to stop him from escaping. “We can’t all have enough free time on our hands to make everything from scratch.” There’s that senior who’s giving Dean a death glare again, not altogether uncommon around here, but while Dean just ignores him Gabriel decides to stick his tongue out at him and blow him a kiss as he points at his ass. Dean can’t help but bust out laughing. This guy doesn’t even know him and already he’s fighting Dean’s battles. “You’re lucky you’ve got me to save your hide, Winchester.”

Dean rolls his eyes and starts walking away but Gabriel, like a rash he just can’t get rid of, follows. And then Dean realizes that he just called him by his last name. “How you’d get my name?”

Gabriel waggles his eyebrows. “One thing about me is my charm. Ask a question and it’s answered. Strange though, it doesn’t seem to work on you.”

“That’s ‘cause I’m immune to charm.” Dean opens the door to his fourth period class and hurries to his desk. Gabriel still follows him and Dean remembers that the guy actually shares most classes with him, which really, how could that have happened?

Gabriel takes the seat in front of him, like he usually does, and turns around to face Dean. Class is about to start and Dean’s already nervous having Gabriel right there to distract him. The last thing he needs is failing grades that he has to explain to his father _and_ mother. Gabriel leans closer to him anyway and whispers. “Comes with the territory right?”

Dean freezes and looks over the oblivious students around him, relieved that they’re not paying any attention to Dean’s fucked up life. His hand latches onto Gabriel’s and grips it hard, short fingernails digging into the skin to grab Gabriel’s attention, and he definitely has it. “What the hell do you know about my family?”

Gabriel shrugs, acting as if Dean’s grip doesn’t hurt, as if Dean’s hand won’t give him a bruise later on. “About as much as I know about mine. My brothers aren’t exactly secretly about their _work_.”

Dean’s eyebrows raise, and he realizes now that he knows next to nothing about Gabriel. Strangely though, he kind of wants to. Dean doesn’t have any friends, hasn’t ever really, unless you count his brother Sammy, which Dean doesn’t. Gabriel’s sorta looking up to be a promising addition to that fucked up life of Dean’s. “Brothers?”

“Yeah,” Gabe smirks. “Got three of them. Cas is an oblivious little shit, but I love the poor kid to death. He’s too young yet, but I don’t want to get him tested. Oldest brother Michael is a self-righteous prick, but that’s an understatement if I ever heard one. He’s some big shot death worker, but he mainly gets jobs on the fact that he is one, if he actually acted on it half the time then his fingers would have started rotting off already. I got Luce’s gifts, but he flaunts them enough to make you think why the hell he hasn’t ended up in jail yet. Luck though, it’s a tricky game.” So Gabriel’s a luck worker, which Dean should have figured out himself. He’s already wormed his way into Dean somehow, or it could be just because Dean hasn’t had a friend in _ages._ Class has started, but Gabriel finishes up his whole speech. “Mike and Lucy raise us since both our parents are locked up. Family of tragedies really.”

Gabriel turns toward the front of the room and Dean, who’s just been turned into a sympathetic fool, pokes his back and leans forward. “Hey, I’m really sorry.”

The guy snorts. “Don’t be, kid. My parents are freaks anyways. Me and Cas are the only ones who turned out normal. You guys should meet, heard around that you have a brother too. Maybe we could have a double date sometime?”

Dean leans backward in his seat and tries to concentrate during class, but for the next forty-five minutes he doesn’t hear a word that his teacher’s saying.

Did Gabriel just ask him out on a date?

* * *

 

Dean’s still being manipulated to aid in his parent’s criminal dealings, that’s nothing new. Other things are changing though, like the fact that Dean no longer has to walk to class alone, no longer has to walk through the hallways avoiding people’s stares. Now they’re staring for a whole new reason, but now it’s because they know Gabriel’s secret.

So yeah, the two _freaks_ arehanging out, sharing each other’s homework, talking about their families and their brothers especially. Dean’s so proud of Sammy that he can’t shut up about him, and Gabriel’s the same way with Castiel. It’s fantastic, to finally talk and hang out with someone who’s so much like him that it’s crazy.

“So,” Dean clears his throat. “Do your brothers try to, uh, take you under their wing, so to speak?”

Gabriel looks at him for a minute as if he has no idea what Dean’s talking about, but then his eyes widen and he shakes his head. “No, no no no. Nothing like that. They’re too high and mighty to involve their kid brothers. It’s a good thing too, so I don’t have to fight to keep Cas out of it.” He scoots closer, hand on Dean’s knee. Dean scoots back at that, he doesn’t need the intimacy right now. “What about you, Dean?”

“Ye... Yeah,” he stutters out, not about to believe that he’s going to lie. He’s never lied to Gabriel since he met him four weeks back, but he can’t tell the truth about this. He can’t stand to have things change between them, not when they’ve gotten so comfortable in this almost somewhat _fake_ paradise, fake because it can’t possibly last for much longer. “My parents try to keep that stuff away from me and Sammy. They don’t want us to get hurt.”

Gabriel breathes out a sigh of relief and smiles, and Dean _knows_ he’s made the right call. “Well, that’s good.”

He’s told Gabriel that he doesn’t know what he is yet, that he doesn’t even know if he is a worker. But saying that just feels stupid, even if it’s just to himself. Sam hasn’t presented yet and Dean absolutely knows that he will be one, but he also knows that Sam is so damn smart, and that he won’t use his “gift” for all the wrong reasons like their parents do. He knows Sam is so much higher and better than that.

It’s already too late for Dean.

Gabriel slings his backpack over his shoulder and swipes a hand through Dean’s hair. Dean doesn’t know quite what this is, but he suspects that Gabriel may love him. He doesn’t hold back anything from Dean, and sometimes his affectionate side comes out and scares him to death. Intimacy makes Dean feel uncomfortable because honestly, he’s scared shitless over what could happen. His long suppressed abilities could come out, or his father could find them and threaten Gabriel. Or Dean could make himself look like a complete idiot and ruin everything. Gabriel’s patient but he can’t be all that patient.

“Swing by my place tonight?”

Dean swallows, uncomfortable, wanting to grab Gabriel’s hand but knowing in reality that he _can’t_. It wouldn’t make anything better. “So your brothers can taunt me all night? Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

He wishes he could tell Gabriel that his smile haunts his dreams, but that’s another thing he’ll never be able to admit to.

* * *

 

Gabriel finds out what Dean does, or rather, _has to do_ , the hard way.

He might have hinted to Dean once that he gets extra spending cash by gambling; he looks way older than his seventeen years anyway. Dean just never expected to see him at an underground gambling club while Dean was busy setting up the owner to get worked. Dean hears a knock on the door and ends up turning around to see Gabriel stepping up to the desk, ready to cash in his winnings. He can see the quick look of surprise on Gabriel’s face and is amazed by how easily Gabriel hides it.

Dean gulps, trying to act all normal and shit, but the truth is he’s shaking and Gabriel talking to the guy behind the desk isn’t helping his nerves any. He can feel rivulets of sweat dripping down from his forehead, and he focuses entirely on keeping his palms unclenched. He throws a fake, friendly smile at Gabriel just to keep up appearances, hoping he’s sending the message to ‘leave, leave please and don’t come back’ through his eyes.

Gabriel steps out of the room as abruptly as he stepped in, and even though Dean slides back easily into his role, he finds himself shaking when he gets home an hour later, speculation as to what Gabriel thinks of him keeping him up all night.

* * *

 

Gabriel doesn’t meet him at his locker in the morning the next day, and he also doesn’t talk to him or even look at him in class. Dean knows Gabriel’s mad that he lied, but he still doesn’t regret it because Dean ended up being right: it did change things.

It changed things that Dean didn’t want changed.

And now, well, he’s probably just lost the only friend he’s ever had.

He dresses quickly in the locker room, throws on an old tee and a pair of sweats even though they’re running track today and Dean’s bound to get hot. He looks around for Gabriel but doesn’t see him. Ha, maybe he couldn’t even stand showing up to gym class just in case he’d have to run alongside Dean and be tortured by his ugly face and his _lies._ Dean swallows, wondering where the hell Gabriel is and why that uncertainly is setting him so at edge.

The locker room is empty now and Dean turns the corner, about to leave out the side door so he can get to the track quicker when a familiar face steps into his path, arms crossed but face oddly sympathetic. Huh?

“You should have told me, Dean.”

Dean tries to push past him because he really doesn’t want to be late to class and he really doesn’t want Gabriel’s wrath right now, but Gabriel stops him and Dean sighs, crumpling onto one of the benches. “So you could do what, get me out of it? Fat chance of that, Gabe. I can’t even get myself out of it. This was how I was raised, okay? And if I don’t present myself within the next year then my dad disowns me, because I am absolutely good for _nothing_ unless I turn out to be a worker. Unless I turn out to be like _them_.”

Gabriel sinks down beside him and rubs his back. Dean shudders out a breath but doesn’t stop him, he’s trembling and strangely cold and Gabriel is always warm, bright sunshine.

“That’s not true, Dean. You’re not nothing so don’t let yourself believe it. You honestly think I care if you’re not like me? Like your parents? I hated my parents for years because they were workers, and then I thought the world had ended when I found out what I was. But you know what, Dean? It doesn’t end. Not like you think. I like you for being you, and that’s it.”

Except it’s not. “Why the hell else would you be friends with me?”

“You ever stop to think that it’s because I’m in love with you, kiddo? It was love at first sight for me. I could connect with you, and I never gave a shit whether you were a worker and hiding it from me or not. If you don’t present then so what? We’ll run away together, you and me.” Gabriel stops rubbing his back in favor of leaning forward and giving Dean a peck on the cheek. Dean blushes, feeling an immense heat on the spot where Gabriel just kissed him which is making him somewhat giddy and wanting to be pushy for more attention. “Luck is always on my side, Dean-o. That’s why I got you.”

The way Gabriel puts it, it sounds like Dean’s been worked, or is still being worked, but Dean shakes off that weird feeling. Gabriel would tell him, he would definitely tell him. “How much money did you make last night?”

Gabriel grins and pulls Dean up off the bench. “Enough so we can start saving up for our honeymoon.”

* * *

 

He fucks up a job and Dad knocks him around a little, just to send him a message; honestly, Dean’s used to it. The thing he hates is Sam sneaking into his room and insisting he look over Dean and trying to hold back tears and ultimately crying anyway. This time the tears come first, and Dean holds his baby brother as his body is racked with them, letting them soak Dean’s shirt.

Dean doesn’t know what to say, he never does because he hates to see his little brother upset about anything. But Sam’s crying and Dean has to do something about it. One second he’s just rubbing Sam’s back and whispering soothing nonsense into his ear, ignoring the painful twinge of his ribs and the fact that he knows his back is bleeding, and the next Sam isn’t crying anymore but smiling. He pulls away from Dean, laughs, and ruffles Dean’s hair affectionately.

He doesn’t want to think about what’s happened, but he _knows._

Not that he isn’t happy to see the smile on Sam’s face, but the whole scene is freaking him out too much and he bolts. Sam doesn’t even look hurt or offended, just watches with a smile as Dean leaves the room and the house and runs off into the night. “Dean? Dean!” His voice echoes after him as he sprints to nowhere in particular, vision hazy and going gray, heaving for breath, heart thundering in his chest as if it’s about to explode.

He just worked his baby brother.

Eventually, he collapses in the grass in front of someone’s house, too panicked to worry about someone seeing him and calling the police. Luckily, despite his wavering vision, the house is yellow. He sits there in the grass, bent in on himself, sobbing pathetically until there are two arms wrapping around him and pulling him up. He recognizes the strong, chiseled face and the fatherly look of concern. “Dean?”

“I presented,” Dean sobs into his chest. Michael’s face goes soft and he leads Dean inside the house, where everybody can watch him sob like a baby. Despite the situation Dean’s only created for himself, he knows his heightened anxiety has partly to do with blow back from working, which is kinda like coming down from an insane high all quivery and achey.

He briefly catches sight of Lucifer on the couch, watching TV, head turning when the door closes behind the two oft them. “Hey, Gabriel!” Lucifer calls out loudly, and Gabriel comes out of the kitchen and takes in Dean with wide eyes, no longer licking the peanut butter off the spoon he’s holding. “Your fiance’s here,” Lucifer jokes. Gabriel shoves him back down on the couch, grabs Dean’s arm and leads him into the safety of his room.

His hands grip Dean’s shoulders protectively. “Dean, what the hell happened?”

Dean hiccups as he tries to stop sobbing. “Think I’m an emotion worker,” he brokenly admits because his life is over. Sure, he won’t get kicked out of his own house now, but this is the absolute _last_ thing that he wants to be. “Sam was crying and then I made him stop crying. That goofy smile of his,” Dean chuckles. “I worked my own brother, Gabriel,” he practically screams, noticing how his voice is already starting to go hoarse.

Gabriel ignores that last world changing statement and looks Dean up and down. “Dean, you’re bleeding.”

Dean doesn’t care, he wouldn’t care if he was dying now for fuck’s sake, but Gabriel helps him get his shirt off and presses a cool towel to his back, and Dean moans in exhaustion. He’s tired and he _hurts_ , his head hurts and his chest hurts and his back and legs hurt and the fact that Sam will never ever forgive him hurts most of all. “Don’t you get it, Gabe? I can... manipulate people,” he spits out. “I hurt Sammy and I could hurt you too.”

“So you’re saying that you could make me fall in love with you?”

Dean’s eyes go wide and he jolts forward, but Gabriel’s hands settle on his shoulders again and pull Dean back against his chest. “But I wouldn’t, Gabe. What I have is a curse. I wouldn’t do that....”

Gabriel shushes him, “I know that, Dean. Believe me, I know that even more than you do. I trust you, kiddo. But... considering that now we won’t have to run, is there any way that you could start to relax now? I mean, jeez, kiddo, you’ve been giving me heartburn for days now.”

Dean hits him in the arm and leans back against his chest. He still has a lot to work out in his head, but being held by Gabriel is definitely the only thing keeping him together right now. He wouldn’t trade Gabriel for the world. 

**FIN**


End file.
